


The Butterfly Effect

by Avierra



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-04
Updated: 2010-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avierra/pseuds/Avierra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My thanks, as always, to  <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/freeradical9/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/freeradical9/"><b>freeradical9</b></a> for all her insights (and for forcibly stomping on my handwaving tendencies ;) ).</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Butterfly Effect

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks, as always, to [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/freeradical9/profile)[**freeradical9**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/freeradical9/) for all her insights (and for forcibly stomping on my handwaving tendencies ;) ).

Gojyo was used to keeping his head down, and avoiding whatever local police force happened to be maintaining order. Something about him just seemed to set off law enforcement, and although he usually didn’t mind it too much if trouble found him, he didn’t go out of his way to seek it out, either. It wasn’t his fault that he was usually in one scrape or another.

 

Trying to keep his nose clean was no different on a spaceship than planet-side —even the living spaceship of Warlord Cho Gonou, the Butcher of the Tougenkyou Sector—so he was not particularly alarmed when he saw the inordinate number of alert, uniformed guards along the winding, tree-lined pathways leading to his quarters on the ship.

 

Extra security for the Her Excellency, General Yaone, maybe? He didn’t know, and didn’t care. He just kept out of sight—and out of mind-- and tried to find another route. There were plenty of possibilities to make his way over to his quarters. He was certainly no stranger to sneaking by security personnel, and the maze-like paths created by the tree growth made it almost too easy.

No, what finally made him realize that something was seriously amiss was the fact that, as he peeked through the leaves of one of the plethora of living, growing trees, he could see the prince’s adjutant herself standing between two armed, uniformed guards— the warlord’s elites, easily recognizable by the gold vine-braid along the cuffs and collars of their uniforms. She was obviously a prisoner, and he could hear her indignant voice from where he was standing, although he couldn’t make out what she was saying. The front door to his room was flung wide open, bright light streaming out into the corridor, and a guard spoke quietly into his wrist comm.

Gojyo turned around and started running. He was just so incredibly fucked.

**

It had started, as it always did, with Banri making one of his get-rich-quick suggestions.

“Come on, it’ll be easy money,” Banri said. He flicked the ashes of his cigarette onto Gojyo’s ratty carpet.

Gojyo snorted. “That what you always say, and it never is. It always turns out to be just a pain in my ass.”

“No, I mean it. Seriously. She especially asked for us to go as the entertainment portion of the negotiations.”

It didn’t take much to figure out what Banri was talking about. Everyone was atwitter about how Cho Gonou, mysterious Warlord-- and Butcher of the Tougenkyou Sector-- was orbiting around their little backwater planet. He could well imagine that Prince Kougaiji was quite nervous. As far as Gojyo was aware, no one actually knew what Cho Gonou wanted.

But then, nobody really knew that much about Cho Gonou at all, period. He had seemingly come out of nowhere, his rise to power blood-bright and incandescent as a supernova. His agenda remained unascertained and unexplained. But to hear it told, the Butcher of the Tougenkyou Sector had begun a systematic extermination of youkai planets. Or so they said on the nightly news vids. It was hard to say anymore, what with the news from that sector of space having dwindled to a trickle, and then to nothing. There was no news, now—that area of the galaxy had fallen ominously silent. And what made the whole situation even weirder was that the evening vids claimed that the Butcher was a youkai as well, although Gojyo had no idea how the reporters would know. It seemed like most of the news out of Tougenkyou was rumor and speculation these days.

It must have given the undeniably youkai Prince Kougaij, ruler of a more-or-less peaceful population of both humans and youkai, something of a pause when the Warlord’s ship dropped out of superspace and into orbit above his capital planet of Anshulin. Gojyo didn’t envy Kaougaiji that. Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, and so on. Still, that was why Kougaiji got paid the big bucks, while people like Gojyo made do with whatever they could scrape by on.

Which was probably why Gojyo actually devoted time and brain cells to considering what Banri had said. He pulled on his silver-buckled knee-high boots, smoothing the leather over the clingy, slightly metallic fabric of his pants. He really liked that stuff. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination, lovingly outlining long legs and planes of muscle, not to mention other attributes. Gojyo was a let-it-all-hang-out kind of guy, and their fans certainly never complained when he did.

“Like the prince’s adjutant is going to ask for our lowbrow asses to play at some la-di-da function.”

‘Well…” Banri grinned. “I happen to have an in. I know her. And also she’s seen us play. So she knows we’re good. She’s a huge fan.”

Right. Banri knew General Yaone, the prince’s right hand man... woman. “We grew up together,” said Banri, as if he could read Gojyo’s mind. He flicked more ash onto the rug. “And she saw us play the other night. She told me today she thought we were really good, and that we had an excellent shot at being chosen to play at the embassy gig on the Butcher’s ship. It’s a real prestige job.”

Gojyo snorted as he tied his scarlet sash around his waist, threw his black cloak over his shoulder, and arranged his wide-brimmed hat over his long hair, tilting it to ensure the scars on his face were shaded.

“You look like a pimp. A pirate pimp,” Banri said critically, eying Gojyo’s colorful outfit. It wasn’t that outré; Gojyo privately thought Banri was jealous he hadn’t thought of it first. “Anyway. At least think about it, will you?”

“Sure. Have her talk to my people.” Gojyo grinned and grabbed his guitar. “Let’s go get the girls.”

**

It had been a good gig, but it always was, even though the venue was dark and smoky, not to mention crowded by their fans. About halfway through their set, Banri looked up from his keyboards and pointed towards the audience with his chin. Gojyo raised an eyebrow, shrugged and kept on playing and singing. Despite Banri’s rather obvious gesture, the other two band members didn’t seem to notice anything untoward, or not that they let on, anyway.

The other two girls were session musicians, but the four of them worked together pretty well, and Gojyo enjoyed playing with them. Especially since Rei the drummer, and Rin the guitarist, were pretty spicy ladies. Twins even! Although they never seemed to get any of Gojyo’s hints about a hookup. Maybe they had something going on together. Still, he had always thought it would be pretty hot if they ever said yes. The main thing about them (apart from their hotness) that he liked was that they tended to get caught up in the music thing a lot more than Gojyo did. Not that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy the whole scene for the most part, but the girls were into music for the art of it, whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. Gojyo preferred the energy of the crowds, and the parties, and the backstage activities.

He scanned the audience as he played, as he always did, even without Banri’s prompting. Even so, he almost did a double-take when he saw General Yaone sitting at one of the few tables, listening intently, a pleased little smile on her face. There were a couple of other people with her—a human and a youkai-- but Gojyo didn’t recognize them. So, for once Banri wasn’t just talking out his ass and not just spouting some of his usual bullshit. Interesting.

The youkai wasn’t Prince Kougaiji, but looked as if he might be a bodyguard or something, tall and broad-shouldered, dark hair cut short in military style. Gojyo didn’t see a laser pistol on him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t packing. Although, Gojyo had heard that General Yaone could handle herself in a fight, and _she_ almost certainly was carrying concealed. Both youkai seemed to be enjoying the show, fingers drumming along with the beat. After awhile, they got up and danced, and Gojyo lost them in the crowd.

The human was almost pretty, all tall and pale and interesting, thick, dark hair cut in spikes over his brow and face. He also listened, but he was frowning slightly, his mouth quirked downwards. Gojyo wondered if he was enjoying himself: he didn’t appear to be particularly happy at being there. Which kind of pissed Gojyo off, in a way. They were damned good, and he took it as a personal affront when someone seemed bored at their shows. Gojyo half-expected the guy to keep glancing at his chronometer, but by some heroic effort he refrained. Instead, he glanced out over the crowd, looking for someone, if Gojyo had to guess.

It was inevitable that their eyes met and locked for several long seconds. It was too intense, and Gojyo felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach, but he somehow managed to play and sing through it. He finally sneaked a look when he regained his composure; the other guy was frowning even more, and then he stood abruptly and left the venue. General Yaone and her bodyguard followed him out a short time later, their expressions distressed. Well… General Yaone looked distressed. The youkai looked irritated.

Very odd, but Gojyo didn’t waste much more thought on it. Instead, he winked and smiled at a luscious pair of young ladies in the front row, both of whom were staring up his legs at him in a reverent fashion. He sang directly to them for the rest of the number. He’d see them both after the show, he was pretty sure.

**

Gojyo had gotten used to looking out over the audience at their nightly gigs and seeing General Yaone and the guy there, which seemed weird to him because it was clear that the guy didn’t seem to like their music much. Or at least he was obviously uncomfortable, and never, ever danced like most of the other patrons. Instead, every night he sat and watched the band with an inscrutable expression on his pretty face, drinking wine—the good stuff, Gojyo could tell by the bottles on his table-- as if it were water.

He was only a little surprised when the guy showed up in his dressing room, General Yaone trailing behind him like a mother hen guarding her chick.

Gojyo had stripped down to his very snug pants, leaning back in his chair with his feet up. He was noodling around on his guitar, deep in thought. Or not thinking, really. He had been wondering off and on—but trying not to think about it too much-- how much longer they could all stand the pace of their schedule. They had become almost too successful, getting a lot of good press and attention, and playing better and larger venues. Life had become pretty hectic, and lately he had been too tired even for his usual variety of stress relief. Banri had been even more of a prick than usual.

Maybe it was time for them to go their own ways. That was another one of the things he had been trying hard not to think about, as he let his fingers wander over the strings.

“Yes, of course,” the guy was saying over his shoulder to whatever comment the General had just made. His voice was smooth and pleasant. Then he turned his full attention to Gojyo.

The intense stare that was directed at him was not where he would have expected it, at either the expanse of warm skin and sculpted abs; or the “waistline” of his clinging pants, precariously positioned one good twitch away from a full reveal. It was locked on his bright red hair, pulled back in a messy ponytail.

Gojyo dropped his feet to the floor and stood, holding his neon-blue guitar in front of him like a shield. The guy’s unwavering green gaze slid over his face and to his eyes. Gojyo felt pinned and assessed, just as if he were some sort of insect on a card.

“Mr. Sha, I am not sure you have met His Excellency, Lord Hakkai. He’s a trusted member of Lord Cho’s staff, and his seneschal. He’s handling many of the arrangements. I apologize for taking so long to meet with you about these contracts, but I am sure you can imagine business has been quite pressing as of late. But we’ve finally brought them for your perusal,” he dimly heard the General say. Gojyo shuddered and wrenched his gaze away from the guy.

“Banri,” he began, wishing they’d leave.

“Isn’t around, I fear, Mr. Sha.” Her smile was bright and no-nonsense. She held out an electronic tablet for his inspection.

Gojyo gingerly took the tablet and looked at it with a sense of impending doom.

“Prince Kougaiji will be very pleased to know you are giving it your full consideration.” The guy’s mouth quirked up at that. Yes, she was very subtle, like a kick to the head.

“I’ll let Banri know, General,” Gojyo said finally. “He handles all that sh... stuff.”

“Excellent.” The briskness was back in her voice. “In the meantime, His Excellency has expressed an interest in meeting with your band, well prior to Prince Kougaiji’s mission to Lord Cho’s ship.”

“Sure,” said Gojyo. He couldn’t figure out why he was so unenthused about this gig… wasn’t it a chance to make lots of money, to seal their future? If they pleased Prince Kougaiji and the Warlord, they’d all be set for life, able to write their own tickets. And not just on Anshulin.

“Well then. Your Excellency.” General Yaone bowed to the guy… His Excellency, Lord Hakkai... and nodded to Gojyo. Then she left.

Gojyo and the guy stared at each other. “Umm. Want a beer?” Gojyo asked, turning and opening the refrigerator. He sure as hell needed one.

“Thank you,” said the guy in his cool voice. Gojyo handed him a chilled bottle. “I was hoping one of you could show me around town. Something interesting. If I have to see another museum or art exhibit or public works, I think I might scream.”

Gojyo grinned. “Heh. I can sympathize with that. Does it have to be tonight, Your… Uh… Your Excellency.”

The guy waved his hand and smiled, polite and reserved. Even so, somehow, he reminded Gojyo of a dragon trying to lure a maiden into its cave, his smile seemingly affable but covering a multitude of passions. He shivered, his interest suddenly and thoroughly piqued.

“Please, it’s Hakkai. And no, not at all.”

**

Banri was plinking at his keyboard after their practice session finished up, which meant he had something weighing heavily on his mind. Gojyo waited patiently to hear what he had to say; they hadn’t been able to talk earlier because of how hectic their practice sessions had been lately. He began changing into clean clothes. He was headed out for the evening.

“You looked at the final contracts?” Banri asked, at last. Plink plink plink. Plink. Which meant that what he was discussing wasn’t what he was perturbed about. Gojyo sometimes wished Banri played cards, or backgammon or other games of chance, but, sadly, gambling wasn’t one of his many vices.

“Well, they look fine to me, and I liked the timetable going forward, lots of time. I guess that means the Butcher and Prince Kou have a lot to talk about. But it gives us a chance to come up with something spectacular. Also it’s pretty nice we’re being invited to stay on the ship for awhile. I wonder what it’s like. What did you think?” Gojyo pulled his shirt over his head. He wondered where Hakkai was. Usually he was quite punctual.

“Well. I thought they were fine too.” Plink. Plink. “You been spending a lot of time what that ambassador guy?” And there it was.

“Oh,” said Gojyo, artlessly. “Is that what he is? I didn’t know that. Huh. Yaone said he was a member of Lord Cho’s staff.” He paused, and picked up his guitar. “So, why are you asking?”

Banri sat back against the keyboard and faced Gojyo with an expression of great earnestness. Sincerity sat oddly on his eyebrowless face, and Gojyo bit his lip to keep from smiling. Banri was his friend, or something anyway, but Gojyo wasn’t really under any illusions about him.

“Gojyo, come on. You know this is our chance for a big break.” Banri’s voice grew more animated, and Gojyo folded his arms and leaned back against the wall.

“Yeah?” Banri knew that they’d all signed the contracts, although at this point it seemed as if they were supposed to hurry up and wait to go to the flagship, so Gojyo wondered what he was driving at.

Banri’s eyes narrowed. “And we could learn a lot, just by keeping our eyes and ears open. No one knows much about the Warlord, right? The girls are off in their own little world so they would never think of it, and I bet that anyone that Yaone takes with her would rather die than cross her. It’d be just you and me, the only source of information about him. We could name our own price.”

“So you want me to sp… to “listen” to Hakkai?” Gojyo wasn’t quite sure how he sounded, but Banri quickly developed a shit-eating grin.

“He’s got to have told you some interesting things about where he’s been and where he’s going. And about the Warlord. Think about it, it could really help out Prince Kou’s efforts and bargaining points.”

“Sure thing, man.” Gojyo kept his voice pleasant with an effort. Banri hadn’t actually said anything Gojyo hadn’t already thought about, but it sounded a lot more sordid when Banri said it than it had in his imagination.

It _felt_ even more sordid, because Gojyo genuinely liked Hakkai, and enjoyed his company a lot more than he had thought he would, although he hadn’t realized that Hakkai was the Warlord’s ambassador. He’d had a great time over the last month or so showing Hakkai around the town’s bars and pleasure districts. Hell, they’d even gotten drunk together a time or two, had studied and discussed the local ladies in great detail (or, now that he thought about it, Gojyo had studied and tipsily discussed them, and Hakkai had listened, an amused smile on his pretty face). Hakkai had told him about the places he had visited with the Warlord, and related stories he had heard on his travels about cities that covered an entire planet, and god-heroes that had actually lived, once upon a time.

Gojyo wanted all that with a yearning so intense he could almost taste it, wanted off Anshulin with every fiber of his being. He’d spent most of his adult life on Anshulin hiding who and what he was in plain sight. Maybe, just maybe, if he made enough money, he could go somewhere it wouldn’t matter.

“Sure thing,” he said again, but he wasn’t at all certain his heart was in it.

**

The Butcher’s flagship, the _White Dragon_, was graceful and delicate, all flowing lines and crazy geometry. Gojyo couldn’t help when contrasting it with the rather more pedestrian appearance of the orbital taxi in which he found himself.

He had heard that the ship was actually almost entirely organic and that it had somehow been grown. It did appear almost alive. The _White Dragon_ looked like it should actually swim or glide through space: a fragile flower floating through streams of ether. It was a beautiful thing, iridescent white and green, rose and gold, blazing against the void. Gojyo wondered what the deal was with the flagship, where it had come from, what it was, especially since the rest of Cho Gonou’s ships were unremarkable, just regular warships. A lot of people probably wondered that.

Banri gazed on the ship wide-eyed and smiling, and Gojyo wondered if he was committing its form to memory.

They were greeted at the airlock by a group of guards, decoratively dressed in gaudy, if quite functional jumpsuits. The guards might have looked a bit odd, but most of them were packing laser pistols, and a couple of them also wore swords, and Gojyo could tell by the way they moved that they weren’t fledgling fighters. They stood at attention while General Yaone, now acting as the proxy and ambassador for Prince Kougaiji, led her group onto the ship.

The interior of the ship was… different. Although they were standing in what seemed to be a standard metal and glass airlock, Gojyo could see what looked like tree trunks ahead of the little group. Columns, maybe? The walls—where there were walls: the ship’s space was quite open in general-- appeared to be paneled with some sort of blonde wood. Very posh indeed, thought Gojyo, taking the electronic tablet offered by one of the guards. As he scrolled through it, there were a couple of maps of the ship, some with sections blanked out, but most of the ship was represented.

The corridors of the ship meandered in and around the columns, and Gojyo could see the columns were in fact trees, or something like trees, supporting the vaulted ceiling with their strong limbs. Luminous vines climbed up the trunks, and provided surprisingly bright light for the paths that branched off the main corridor. It was quite beautiful, like watercolor illustrations that Gojyo had seen in an old book of fairy tales. He halfway expected to hear insects singing in the vine’s leaves, but the only thing he could hear was a sort of humming, which he assumed was the air circulating, or the machinery of the ship (because there _had _to be machinery). His room was nestled between a couple of sturdy trees, a private little alcove that was pleasantly and comfortably furnished, and which actually contained its own bathroom with real running hot and cold water. At least the Butcher apparently approved of creature comforts while in space.

It took the various members diplomatic mission awhile to learn how to navigate around the ship: the corridors had a tendency to ramble and wind before they reached their final destination, and most of the time the they all relied upon the expertise of a person who seemed to be a tour director to find their way to the mess hall and recreational areas. Gojyo tried to do some sightseeing and learn how to get around the ship when he wasn’t practicing. He made an effort to mark his maps with areas he thought were most important, but he still got lost more often than not.

He also couldn’t help but notice that their guide avoided or circumnavigated certain areas, armed guards prevented access into others, and he wondered if Banri was taking mental notes. He had decided, finally, that he wasn’t going to go along with Banri’s suggestion. It felt too much like betrayal, and while he hadn’t seen Hakkai in the few days since they had arrived on the ship, he hoped he would again before they went their separate ways, he back to Anshulin and Hakkai back into the depths of the Tougenkyou Sector.

The thought was surprisingly unsettling.

**

General Yaone had warned the band that the embassy party was going to be quite grand, and Gojyo dressed carefully for it, his long scarlet hair tied back in an elegantly messy ponytail, his long legs encased in his signature skin-tight metallic pants; his black jacket with its ribbon ties along his arms fluttering jauntily with each movement, while displaying a tantalizing glimpse of belly and hipbones-- not to mention the sharp definition of his chest and arms. His boots were polished black, the silver fittings and buckles gleaming in the twinkling light of the vines. He wished he had a sword to wear; it would have been awesome. He was red and black and silver, all sensuality and sin, and he looked like every doting mama’s worst dream come to life.

He looked over the crowd as the band wended their way to the instruments, the ladies gaily dressed, as dainty and glittering as butterflies, the gentlemen more soberly attired, but just as exuberant. He could recognize some of them from the evening vids: most seemed to be part of Kougaiji’s court and inner circle, both human and youkai. But there were a lot of faces he didn’t recognize… not that he would have expected to. They were clearly above his weight class. They all looked so much as if they were an integral part of the exquisite ballroom, with its open wood parquet dance floor and its mysterious, shrouded grottos, all illuminated by twinkling lanterns and little starry lights up amongst the tree boughs.

Off at one end of the room, he could see a dark-haired figure sitting on a large on a raised dais, dressed in green and black, spiky gold glittering above his head. A blonde figure in dark grey stood next to him, but they were too far away for Gojyo to make out their faces. The dais was surrounded by obviously armed guards: probably the Warlord then.

He felt great, like bubbles in champagne, and he knew from the first notes that the band played and sang that their concert tonight would be the best he—they-- had ever given.

**

Gojyo mingled in the crowd, dancing and flirting with all the beautiful people, most of them youkai, but with a human here and there mixed in the crowd. The band had been permitted to stay and enjoy themselves after their set was finished and a rather tamer group took over the musical duties. Gojyo hadn’t known that more than one act had been booked, but that made sense, he supposed. He was glad about it, anyway, because the second group just showcased how totally awesome his own band had been.

Rin and Rei danced slowly together, their filmy violet gowns flowing around them as if the silk had become wine, their arms entwined around each others’ waists, and Gojyo grinned to himself. Well, that was one suspicion confirmed, at least. He didn’t see Banri anywhere, but that was fine. He and Banri had become increasingly tense with each other since their discussion a few weeks ago, and Gojyo thought they might be quits when they got back to Anshulin. The two of them hadn’t even really seen each other except for their practice sessions for the entire week they had been on the ship. He had mixed feelings about that. But it was great to know that their little group had acquitted themselves so well. After all the trouble they had gone to and through to put on the best show they could, they could all pretty much play with whomever they chose. Their futures were assured.

Gojyo sought out and found General Yaone, regal and formidable despite her dainty jewelry and delicate midnight silk clothing, bowed to her with a grin, and extended his hand. Then he spun her around the room in an energetic and graceful whirl, legs and arms and hair flying, her merry laughter trailing behind them. Somehow Gojyo was utterly and delightedly unsurprised to find she kept up with him easily, and even made him work at their dance himself. It made him a little sad to know he probably wouldn’t see her again after they returned to the planet. She was… nice.

Despite his brief bout of melancholy (and maybe he should stop drinking the free booze), he managed to comfort himself with the caresses of first one elegant youkai lady, who whispered charming obscenities in his ear and who left her com address tucked teasingly into the top of his pants; and then with another delectable youkai lady who guided him to a dark corner and who did deliciously terrible things with her tongue until his knees buckled and he fell before her like a worshipping supplicant. She smiled saucily at him, and wiggled her fingers goodbye.

After that, even he was exhausted-- and a little bit drunk and giddy on both adrenaline and wine-- and was mentally debating whether or not to leave, but he knew he’d probably never see anything like this party again, so he decided to stick it out until the bitter end.

The Warlord had never joined the revelers on the floor, sitting up on his dais like a statue, and Gojyo couldn’t tell if he was even enjoying himself or not. He finally he rose from his seat and left the room, which seemed to be the signal for the festivities to end, and Gojyo regretfully made his way back towards his quarters.

He’d have to pack up his stuff and leave in the next couple of days. He never had caught up with Hakkai, despite asking if General Yaone could send him a message, and that bugged him too. He hoped they’d be able to touch base before he had to leave. But overall, the whole trip had been a wonderful experience, and he was glad to have had it, despite his initial reservations.

That’s why it was such a shock to see the door of his room pried open and armed guards standing around with their hands on their weapons, and General Yaone apparently a prisoner in their midst.

Gojyo cut and ran.

**

He had avoided patrols and groups of guards, adeptly using the winding paths through the labyrinthine wilderness of the ship’s main corridors, trying to take advantage of the heavy growth of bushes and shrubs to conceal his progress. He had a general idea of where the escape pods for the ship were. He was pretty sure he was headed in the general direction he needed to go, and he finally found himself facing what looked like a garden—the estate garden of a nobleman. He didn’t remember seeing that noted on the ship’s map he had had on his tablet. Which of course was back in his room.

Presumably this area was one of the secured areas that he wasn’t supposed to enter. Like he gave a fuck now, all he wanted was to get in an escape pod and leave.

The star-studded black of space opened out above him, Anshulin glowing blue and green off the bow, deceptively, breathtakingly serene. He knew it for what it was: a glittering ball of mud with pretensions of grandeur. But it was still his home, even with all its faults, and something within him responded to seeing it there.

The area ahead of him was more or less open, and he could hear flowing water, a fountain, perhaps. A path paved in pretty pink and white pebbles path wended its way through trees and flowering bushes, criss-crossing a neatly manicured lawn. The entire landscape was so out of place compared to the rest if the ship that Gojyo doubted what he was seeing at first. But he could smell the perfumed flowers and the scent of the earth.

No one appeared to be around--he couldn’t see or hear anything-- but Gojyo moved cautiously and slowly through the plant life, trying to stay hidden.

Ahead of him, at the very end of the lawn, someone had built a bower and nestled it in a grove of trees. A fountain tinkled merrily in the center of a small, circular stone plaza, and a colorful little garden, full of flowers and shrubs of a sort that Gojyo had never seen, grew around the perimeter. Marble benches nestled among the greenery.

A man sat on one of them, reading a book, and Gojyo took one look at him and made a huge leap of faith.

“Hakkai! Oh god, you have to help me, man, I don’t know what the fuck is going on, I swear, and—“

“Ah! Gojyo!” Hakkai said, raising his head and closing his book shut with a horribly final snap. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. I am actually fairly impressed at your time; you must be even stealthier than I thought.” He smiled, his green eyes hard as diamonds behind his ridiculously old-fashioned glasses, and it was like a sword slash to Gojyo’s heart, razor-edged and merciless steel.

“Hakkai… no!” began Gojyo helplessly, beginning to back away. He was well and truly fucked, he knew that now.

He felt a sting right above his hip, along the bared expanse of belly, and the last thing he saw was Hakkai lowering a small blowgun from his lips and looming over him, his expression grim, and a hand reaching down and brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

Gojyo came to in a small room. The only entrance shimmered and flickered, covered with a sheet of bluish light—a cell of some sort then, perhaps the ship’s brig.

His head swam and throbbed at the same time, and his stomach didn’t feel so good either.

He had been placed on a bed, a quite comfortable bed at that, which surprised him. Actually, the cell wasn’t that much different from the little room in which he had originally been quartered, except for the security screen letting everyone see what he was doing. Even the bathroom was out in the open. Ah well. If the guards wanted a glorious eyeful, who was he to deny them. As soon as his stomach quit trying to conquer the rest of his body.

He sat up on the bed and tried to take stock of the situation... at least inasmuch as he could. His hands were manacled together in front of him. He didn’t know why they had bothered; he wasn’t going to be going anywhere soon, judging by the looks of the force screen. He would have been in even worse shape if he had been secured with his hands behind him while he was unconscious. At least this way his arms weren’t cramped up from being fastened behind him, and he could at least attend to his bodily functions.

There was a pitcher of water and some fruit on a small table. So they weren’t trying to starve him, anyway. He ate some grapes, and drank a glass of water, and felt a bit better, although he still felt weak and his hands trembled a little.

He threw his clothes into the refresher and then took a shower, leaning against the wall to support his body. He wasn’t sure he could have remained standing for the entire duration otherwise, but he had regained enough strength to towel off and put his clothes back on.

After some length of time--he didn’t know how long, but he had almost fallen back to sleep--a couple of the elite guards showed up and turned off the force shield. They entered the cell and pulled him to his feet.

One of them eyed his manacles skeptically. “Time to fix that. Hold out your arms.” Gojyo held them out, pondering, while they undid his manacles. Make another break for it? He could. He could take these two guys, probably, elite guards or not. But there were more guards here in the brig area and in the rest of the ship than there was of him, and he wasn’t 100% yet. He quietly submitted to having his arms resecured behind his back, and then let them pull him along. He settled for acting a bit slower and groggier than he actually was, leaning just a bit on the guard to his right.

He was escorted, tripping over roots, through a labyrinth of trees and vines. The whole area beyond the brig was virtually a forest in the midst of the spaceship. He was led up and down and up paved paths to different levels of the ship, all of it pretty much overgrown with grass, vines, with a few trees here and there. He smelled marsh, or swamp, he was pretty certain, and he could see little animals—frogs?—hopping around in the vegetation to either side of him.

He had no idea where he was; he didn’t recall anything like this on his maps. He had never seen this area, or anything like it, though, he was certain.

Eventually they ascended a staircase intricately patterned with different colors of wood inlay, the balustrades all perfectly carved leaves and vines. Gojyo noted the sharp thorns interspersed amongst the foliage, and shivered a bit. It seemed almost a declaration of intent.

The stairs rose, grand and imposing, leading up into a well-lighted and spacious area. There were no trees or vines as such to be seen; this particular area looked completely modern. Even the air smelled different here, sort of mechanical rather than earthy and alive.

Ahead of him as he entered he could see out into space over a bank of computers and other equipment. To his right, he could see Banri, Rin and Rei, General Yaone, manacled and on their knees on the floor. The rest of the diplomatic mission, most of whom he didn’t know very well, were positioned behind them under guard and segregated from the group kneeling on the floor.

Gojyo was shoved hard towards Rin, and he lost his balance, falling painfully on one knee. At least he had managed to catch himself before he fell on his face. The two girls were weeping silently next to him, little Rin trying to suppress her own sobs. He bumped gently against Rin’s shoulder to let her know he was there, and to comfort her as much as he could. General Yaone’s face was very pale and strained; her blue eyes had dark smudges beneath them from fatigue. She looked like she had been put through the wringer: her beautiful gown was wrinkled and smudged with dirt. She had obviously undergone some sort of questioning, at the very least.

Banri was smirking a little, like he always did, the bastard. He was the only one who seemed to be at all unfazed by his new status.

“Ah, Mr. Sha. We’re finally all here.’’ A low, almost musical, voice drifted over from his left; he hadn’t even noticed the youkai seated, knees crossed, on a raised portion of the room. He was dressed in a loose green tunic and rather more snug black pants. He looked oddly familiar, despite the markings of dark green vines tracing over his face and down over the hands and fingers, and the longer, darker, wilder hair. It wasn’t the voice, which was actually a bit deeper than that to which he was used to hearing, that clued him in. It was the forest-green eyes, focused a bit over the heads of the diplomatic mission that made him realize just whose prisoner he was, and when he knew that, he started laughing. It was all so fucking ridiculous.

At least he knew why Hakkai had shot him with a fucking blowgun. That spot still hurt like hell.

“Something amuses you, Mr. Sha?” inquired the Butcher of the Tougenkyou Sector, in a silky voice. Gojyo quit laughing and did his best to remember who he was dealing with. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was Hakkai, kind, generous, and razor-witted Hakkai, with whom he had burned up the pleasure districts of Anshulin for over a month. It was difficult to accept that he was the same person as a man who was infamous for the horrific nature of his crimes.

“Nah,” said Gojyo, biting his lip. “Just funny how things turn out sometimes.”

“Indeed so,” remarked the Butcher. The corner of his lip curled up, and Gojyo bit his lip even harder. He was going to break into giggles if he wasn’t careful, and everything would almost certainly go to shit then, even more than it already was.

“Well then, to the matter which brings us all here. Madame Ambassador, as you are aware, several devices from my ship were found in Mr. Sha’s room, along with some notes he had apparently been making concerning the workings of various areas, some of which he should not have had access to. I would appreciate an explanation.” The Butcher’s long fingers folded gracefully around his knee.

Gojyo stiffened. What? He hadn’t taken anything from the ship! And the only notes he had taken were “Food here. Alcohol here. Game room here.” What the fuck!

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it when General Yaone began talking. “Lord Cho, as I have explained to you, or rather to your advisor when we spoke earlier, Prince Kougaiji’s government is utterly unaware of any such activities, and we vigorously deny any accusations you might lodge against us. Whatever Mr. Sha has chosen to do is entirely of his own volition.” She sounded angry and tired, but more angry than anything else. “We completely disavow him, and we disavow his actions.”

Rin chose that moment to wail in terror, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the soldiers moving towards her, his laser rifle raised. Without even thinking about it, he threw himself over top of her, and the thump from the rifle’s butt hitting his back knocked the wind out of him.

“Fuck!” he gasped. For a moment black spots danced in front of his eyes, and beneath him Rin was struggling, trying to move him off her. “Sorry, babe.” He fought to sit up, but it was pretty damn hard with his arms fastened behind his back.

“Your thugs strike handcuffed women, Lord Cho?” He sounded furious; he didn’t care about trying to stay cool anymore. Whatever had happened with the stuff found in his room --and he had a pretty good idea what that was since he could see Banri’s nervous little smile as he watched Gojyo square off with the armed goons—he could see whatever he said or did wasn’t going to matter at all, in any way.

Banri setting him up… why? The only thing Gojyo could think of was to divert attention from himself. He must have a pretty good stash of notes and items squirreled away somewhere. And if they were found, he could always claim Gojyo must have put them there. He knew Gojyo pretty damn well, when all was said and done.

Off to his right, he could see General Yaone looking at him with an odd expression, almost horrified, and he knew he was going to have to speak fast. Because she had just figured it out.

Gojyo sighed. He was tired and angry, and… he owed Banri a lot. He couldn’t just let someone named “the Butcher” have him. “Let’s just end this,” he said, trying not to sound defeated. “I don’t want any more trouble, or anyone getting hurt. I did it. I took that stuff. Lots of people would pay a lot for stuff from this ship, wouldn’t they? So that’s why.”

The warlord shifted on his seat. “Do you know the nature of the items you took, Mr. Sha?” That deadly, silky voice again.

Gojyo shrugged, as if bored. “Who the fuck cares. I took them, I did it, no one else was involved, and that’s all I’m saying about it.”

“Very well,” said the youkai, with a strange little smile. “Then we’ll see to your justice in a moment.”

General Yaone spoke, sounding a trifle strangled. “Lord Cho… we request that you remand Mr. Sha to our custody, for trial and sentencing on Anshulin.”

“I am terribly sorry,” said Warlord Cho, except he didn’t sound particularly sorry at all, “but I am afraid I am going to have to deny your request. Your guards will escort you back to your transport with all due speed. Your belongings have been packed up and placed in the cargo bay near the airlock, awaiting your departure.”

“Lord Cho, I protest in the strongest of terms!” she began, but the Warlord nodded at a group of guards, and they hauled everyone to their feet and more or less herded them out of the room.

Then it was just the two of them. It was very quiet, so quiet that Gojyo could hear a muffled thumping sound. He realized it was Hakkai’s fingers drumming against the side of his chair.

“It would be in your best interests to tell me the truth, Gojyo.”

“I _have_ told you the truth,” Gojyo lied sincerely. He stretched his arms, trying to relieve the burn in his shoulder muscles. “Um… can I ask what’s going to happen now?” He knew what happened to spies; everyone did. He just hoped that his death came fast. And that they didn’t torture him. He could stand pain, but strongly preferred not to. It would just be a complete waste of everyone’s time too, since he didn’t actually know anything important.

The warlord smiled again, and Gojyo flinched. But all he said was, “I’m hungry after all that excitement. I thought we might have some dinner and discuss matters a bit.”

**

_This… is bizarre,_ thought Gojyo, sitting on a balcony overlooking the garden where Hakkai had shot him. It was evening on the side of the planet facing them; all he could make out on the jewel-like sphere hanging off the ship’s starboard bow was a fragile web of thousands of tiny lights. He thought he could pick out the capital city, but he wasn’t positive. It must have been a clear night as well, possibly really nice weather. He wondered if he’d ever set foot on Anshulin again. He’d been so eager to leave and never return, but he’d had no notion that the idea of never walking down the path to his tiny little house would bother him so much.

They were, in fact, having dinner, a very elaborate (but delicious) meal, and Hakkai was very obviously attempting to set him at his ease. Hakkai hadn’t even brought up the spy stuff, just light conversation and amusing anecdotes, just as he had when they were first getting to know each other. He also kept Gojyo’s wine glass topped off.

Gojyo wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but it was pretty good stuff.

“I’m not going to get drunk,” he felt compelled to warn Hakkai after a couple of glasses. For some reason, that amused Hakkai.

Gojyo allowed his gaze to travel around the room – obviously Hakkai’s quarters. Hakkai liked beautiful things, quality things, like Gojyo had never had, but his room was actually fairly Spartan and overwhelmingly tidy. Except for the obviously well-used, loaded bookshelves and the intriguing curios interspersed with stacks of reading material.

He ate Hakkai’s food, and listened to his stories with a sense of surreality, as if he was watching it all happen to someone else. He kept waiting for the other shoe to fall, for Hakkai to tell him that he had finally made up his mind and that he was scheduling Gojyo’s execution for the morning. That annoyed him a little, because the dinner was pretty good, but it wasn’t what he would have chosen for a last supper. He had always thought prisoners were supposed to get to pick that.

It was after his fourth glass of wine that he had a sudden and startling revelation: Hakkai was a very lonely man. Well, that was to be expected, he supposed. No one liked dangerous bastards. Except him, he guessed. But then, he was amazingly stupid, just like his mom had always said. He giggled, just a tiny bit.

Hakkai smiled at him-- such an odd expression to see on that youkai face, all teeth and eyes, almost like some of the big hunting cats he had heard Prince Kou kept in the southern forests-- and filled up Gojyo’s wine glass. He took a swallow and set his glass down, propping his head on his hand and dreamily studying Hakkai’s pretty, pretty face. It was a good view.

“You aren’t afraid of me at all, are you?” asked Hakkai, watching Gojyo watch him. “Most humans are.”

“Mmm. It’s the teeth. And the talons,” Gojyo rumbled. “Makes people think of things chasing them down.” He was feeling a trifle sleepy.

“But not you, right, Gojyo? Why is that?” Hakkai smiled again, his voice that delicious silky tone—so sexy-- and leaned over the table towards him.

Gojyo shrugged. “Just not that scary,” he murmured. “Grew up with youkai. So I know how they are.” He absently rubbed the scars on his cheek.

Hakkai’s expression was terrifying for an instant, but he must have been mistaken about that, because he blinked and Hakkai looked just as amiable as he ever did.

Gojyo frowned. “You know, Hakkai. I get that you probably have appearances to keep up. Gotta set an example. So I understand if you have to do it. Really. I don’t hold a grudge or anything. Just make it fast, yeah?”

Hakkai looked confused. “What?” Then he realized what Gojyo was talking about. “Oh… I had thought it was quite clear that I am not going to execute you, Gojyo. That would be silly, wouldn’t it, when we both know you’re innocent. At least of that. And it’s also wasteful.”

“You aren’t going to?” Gojyo didn’t quite know what to think about that. He had been pretty much mentally prepared. “Oh. Well, I am still not going to tell you anything.”

“All right, Gojyo.” Hakkai smiled again. He was doing that a lot, and it was starting to worry Gojyo a bit.

“I met your friend Banri one evening while I was waiting for you, back on the planet,” Hakkai continued, in a meditative tone.

That was news to Gojyo, and he found it kind of hard to imagine what might have happened. Banri was still alive, so not much, he guessed.

“He talked about you a lot,” Hakkai said, as if he could read Gojyo’s mind. “Then he made a pass at me.” Gojyo choked on his mouthful of wine. “He’s very possessive of you, envious of you, and completely willing to sacrifice you, all at the same time. I was… not impressed. It does make me wonder if he set this all up as a sort of payback for you befriending me.”

Gojyo drew a deep breath. “I owe Banri. He picked me up off the streets when everyone else was pretty much happy to step on my corpse, and whatever you think of him, he is… was… my friend.”

Hakkai ran long fingers down Gojyo’s unscarred cheek, to his mouth, brushing a lock of hair back off his face, and abruptly Gojyo was back in familiar territory. Aha. That was more like it. He could deal with this, he thought, smiling to himself. If Hakkai thought he was going to sex the information he wanted out of Gojyo, he had another think coming. Sex… that was Gojyo’s domain and avocation. He was the _master_ of sex-fu.

Not that he cared too much about Hakkai’s motivations. He was kind of glad about it, to tell the truth; if he had had the slightest idea that Hakkai was interested in that he would have been all over him back on Anshulin. Hakkai was hot, and even more so as a youkai, with those vine markings all over him, making Gojyo wonder where they began and ended. Although… “How can you be a human and a youkai as well?” He traced his finger up the edge of one long ear.

“Oh… holographic microprojectors. Do you want me to put them back on?”

“Nah. I like the way you look, both ways. I just didn’t know you were, you know, interested. Back then.” Gojyo sipped at his wine and stared at Hakkai in a whole new light.

Hakkai poured Gojyo more wine. “It wasn’t right, before. It would have been taking advantage.”

Gojyo laughed. “And it isn’t now?”

“Do you feel taken advantage of?” Hakkai was smiling again, that dangerous scenting-blood-in-the-water smile that Gojyo had noticed a few other times during the course of the evening. It didn’t worry him too much anymore, for some reason.

He felt the conversation shift again, but he wasn’t sure where it was going anymore. And also he didn’t really care. Hakkai… Hakkai! wanted him, for some unknown reason. That was pretty hard to wrap his mind around.

“Nope,” said Gojyo making a huge leap of faith. Of course, his last huge leap of faith with Hakkai had ended up with him getting shot with a blowgun, but he refused to think about that.

Hakkai got up, and stalked around the table and pulled Gojyo to his feet. “I’m so glad to hear that, Gojyo,” he breathed, and he smelled of wine and spice as he tilted his face up and kissed Gojyo very gently, sliding his hand under the edge of Gojyo’s stretchy jacket, and over the spot where the dart had struck him, caressing the warm skin between the edge of the jacket and the top of Gojyo’s pants with the tips of his fingers.

“I like this stuff, Gojyo,” he said, tracing his finger over the material covering the nub of Gojyo’s nipple. “It’s… unambiguous.” He smiled as it hardened and Gojyo’s body tensed.

Gojyo pulled his hips closer, so Hakkai was standing between his legs, the tops of their thighs pressed together. Parts of him were definitely liking where this was going. “Yeah?” He grinned down into Hakkai’s face.

“It’s a little cumbersome, though, for my purposes.” He slowly stroked his free hand from the neck of the jacket down to the waist, catching the fabric with his talons, watching as it fell open in shreds in the wake of his fingers.

It was such a delicate, refined motion that Gojyo didn’t realize what had happened until the cool air hit his exposed skin through the ribbons of fabric hanging from his shoulders. And then Hakkai’s hands were moving over the tattered remains of his jacket, tickling up the side of his chest, and around his arms, pulling him down into a kiss. Gojyo gasped, but his mouth was full of Hakkai: Hakkai’s breath, Hakkai’s taste, Hakkai’s gently coaxing tongue.

There was no way he could ever have resisted the tender little nipping kisses that Hakkai was planting along his cheek, across his scars, down the underside of his jaw, and over the sensitive pulse points in his neck; nor could he resist Hakkai’s fingers scratching across his nipples, or the slim strength of his leg riding between Gojyo’s thighs. He was a little embarrassed to find he had been dry-humping against Hakkai’s leg and stomach. But not embarrassed enough to stop.

He buried his hands in Hakkai’s hair to hold him still, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with his thumbs, and tilting up that pretty, perfect face. He stared down, almost bewildered at how fast he was losing his cool, his control. He _never_ lost control of sex, and he wouldn’t now, either.

Then he crushed their mouths together, as frantic as a schoolboy copping his first feel behind the schoolhouse, desperate to reach some part of Hakkai hidden deep inside him.

Hakkai stared at him, his mouth slightly open, apparently surprised, but looking composed and collected, perfect and pristine for all that. So pure. It made it hard for him to remember, or even care about, the things Hakkai had supposedly done. It also made him want to sully and rend that perfection, and see what Hakkai looked like when he was flushed and kiss-swollen, and begging for Gojyo’s touch. He thought maybe he could manage that.

He bit down, not hard, on Hakkai’s lower lip, flicking his tongue across the tiny wound to tickle away the sting, and Hakkai hissed against his mouth, tightening his fingers on the back of Gojyo’s waist until Gojyo could feel the prickle of Hakkai’s talons on his skin.

His fingers moved to the clasps of Hakkai’s tunic, undoing each one, and kissing the tender skin that each revealed, trailing his mouth down the side of Hakkai’s chest; only to fall on his knees and flick his tongue across the depression of Hakkai’s navel and over the planes of his belly. He mouthed at the zipper of Hakkai’s tight black trousers, and pulled it down with his teeth, enjoying the hardness of Hakkai’s cock against his lips and cheek. His tongue licked up along the underside of Hakkai’s dick, just to taste, just a drop, savory salt and bitter; he buried his face in the opening of Hakkai’s pants and inhaled his scent, musk and chypre. And he could finally see where the vines began and ended, at least some of them.

Gojyo looked up at Hakkai’s face, through his lashes, through the red cloud of his hair and smiled. Hakkai’s head had been thrown back, breath coming harsh and fast, lashes fluttering against his high cheekbones; he met Gojyo’s gaze and his eyes were almost pure black, with just the barest rim of green, and Gojyo exulted. Yeah, he had done that.

Except… youkai with that expression typically weren’t in the mood for self-control.

A noise almost like a scream broke the silence of the room, and the shredded tatters of what had been left of his jacket fell in metallic black ribbons, oddly beautiful as they drifted to the floor from first one shoulder and arm, and then the other. And Gojyo found himself flat on his back, vision filled with aroused youkai.

He halfway expected Hakkai to nail him to the floor at that point, was ready for it-- craving it, even-- especially when Hakkai’s hand swept almost casually along the line of his hip and thigh up to his waist, first right, then left, catching the fabric on the tips of his claws. His pants, tight, metallic and leaving absolutely nothing to anyone’s imagination, parted beneath Hakkai’s talons as though he had been slicing through water, falling open to leave him completely exposed to Hakkai’s mercy. Or whatever.

There wasn’t so much as a scratch on Gojyo’s skin, and Gojyo wondered how Hakkai did it, even as he privately mourned the loss of one of his favorite pairs of pants.

That was when it got weird.

Hakkai stared down at him and smiled, his eyes entirely black, his mouth and chest flushed, his cock jutting out of the opening of his trousers, but he didn’t make any move to ravish Gojyo. Instead, he twined his fingers in Gojyo’s hair and leaned down and kissed him, his tongue licking and stroking the corners of Gojyo’s mouth, teasing the inside of his lips, until Gojyo writhed beneath him and whimpered. Then he switched to Gojyo’s throat, sucking against the side of Gojyo’s neck and thrusting his tongue against the pulse, nipping and kissing a little line down to Gojyo’s collarbones.

Gojyo moaned and bucked his hips up hard against Hakkai’s cock, and he knew Hakkai felt it, felt how much Gojyo wanted it, because Hakkai gasped and shuddered. And proceeded to ignore Gojyo’s unspoken pleas. Instead, his mouth and kisses wandered down the length of Gojyo’s bare body, down over the peaks of his nipples, where he dallied for a few moments. Down over his belly, where he ran his tongue along the line of Gojyo’s muscles. Across his hipbones, where he bit hard enough to leave a mark. His mark. Down the length of Gojyo’s thighs, where he tickled and traced something with the tip of his tongue and laid kisses on the side of Gojyo’s knees. And back up to his belly and God, Gojyo couldn’t take anymore.

He grabbed Hakkai’s hair and tugged, and Hakkai growled, either in lust or warning, but that was fucking fine with Gojyo, as long as Hakkai _did_ something, anything.

And he did, sliding his mouth down the length of Gojyo’s cock, taking the head into the back of his throat and swallowing. He looked up at Gojyo through his lashes, and hummed, and it was all Gojyo could do to keep from fucking his mouth. He was literally shaking from holding himself back, and then Hakkai ran the tip of his finger—sans talons, Gojyo never understood how he did that—down the length of Gojyo’s crack and across the pucker of his hole, and that was when he completely lost control of himself and thrust wildly into Hakkai’s willing face, using that long, lovely, youkai hair to hold him firmly in place.

He came with a short, sharp cry, emptying himself down Hakkai’s throat, and Hakkai made not so much as a whimper of protest, his fingers continuing to caress and tweak and knead at all the sensitive spots he had discovered on his trek across Gojyo’s anatomy. When it ended, Hakkai gently stroked his shaking legs and laid his head on Gojyo’s stomach, still petting and stroking until Gojyo’s body stopped quivering and he managed to catch his breath.

He couldn’t even move after that, and his thoughts, his thought were in chaos. That wasn’t fucking. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff looking down and seeing nothing but infinitely distant stars burning in the black of space-- and behind him Hakkai was getting ready to give him a good hard shove.

Hakkai helped him up—he could barely stand—and he noticed Hakkai was still hard, but he didn’t say anything about it to Gojyo, simply helping him over to the bed and stripping the rest of the clinging scraps of his jacket and pants off him.

He pulled off Gojyo’s boots, and set them neatly to the side of the bed, then leaned over Gojyo’s body and blew lightly against Gojyo’s skin. Gojyo shivered, his body still ultrasensitive, as though he was made entirely of exposed nerves. And then Hakkai began kissing and nipping his way up the side of his calf (and he had had no idea he had any sensitive places there, for fuck’s sake).

Hakkai still hadn’t come; Gojyo had no idea how he had managed to refrain from giving into the needs of his body. It wasn’t because Gojyo hadn’t tried helping him along. But Hakkai had held him down and simply pleasured him until all he could do was give in to the inferno in his body and mind. By the end of that round Gojyo had bitten the inside of his arm to keep from crying out.

After the third time Gojyo curled up into a ball, staring out and facing the planet, silently watching the web of illumination spread across the night side of Anshulin.

The lights of the ship had dimmed, and it was fairly dark. Gojyo could hardly see Hakkai, although he could hear him breathing (at least his breathing was rapid and uncontrolled, the bastard), but when Hakkai reached for him again, he couldn’t help himself. He flinched.

He heard Hakkai inhale sharply, almost a gasp, and his hand withdrew.

There was a long silence. Then Hakkai spoke, his voice raspy, and Gojyo remembered how Hakkai’s mouth had felt kissing him everywhere, sucking his cock. He was never going to forget that, he knew.

But Hakkai was talking, saying something. “…Sorry. I’m sorry, Gojyo. I didn’t mean—“

“Fuck you!” Gojyo snarled. “I can take whatever the fuck you dish out. Bring it on.” But he remained in his little ball, and began shaking. What if Hakkai believed him? He wasn’t sure he could endure any more tender kisses, any more pleasure that demanded nothing of him, that took nothing for itself. He wasn’t sure why someone who offered him everything made him feel so much worse than someone who took everything. He was used to that, at least.

There was another long silence, during which he could practically hear the wheels turning inside Hakkai’s pretty (but evil) head and then Hakkai reached across him and pulled the covers over him. “You should sleep,” was all he said.

He finally did, and when he woke, he was tangled up with Hakkai, his head on Hakkai’s chest, listening to the beat of Hakkai’s heart.

**

“I can’t take you back to the planet, Gojyo.” There was no give in Hakkai’s voice, although he sounded unfailingly patient and pleasant, and it was making Gojyo crazy.

“Why not?” It wasn’t like Hakkai hadn’t explained it to him about a thousand times. Delicate diplomatic negotiations, people trying to kill him for information he didn’t have, secret government agencies attempting to kidnap him to “debrief him” (although that made him snicker). Blah blah blah.

This time was a little different. He heard the arm of Hakkai’s beautiful wooden chair snap off in Hakkai’s white-clenched fist, and saw Hakkai smiling at him in an unusually menacing way.

“Because, Gojyo, you were thrown away by your own people, with wholehearted collusion from you. Neither they nor you can possibly complain if I picked you up. You’re _mine_. And I’m not throwing you back so you can discard yourself on the… the _middens_ of Anshulin’s fucked-up politics for no good reason.”

Aside from Hakkai’s sweet mouth uttering profanity, all he heard out of that whole speech was “mine,” and his mind stuttered and stuck on that. Because a youkai saying that had a whole different level of meaning and possession attached to that word than when a human said it.

“Don’t I get some say in this whole “mine” thing?” he said at last.

Hakkai gave him a dark look as he swept past him, leaving him feeling as though he was missing something important.

**

“What negotiations?” he asked some time later, after he tracked Hakkai down. It had taken awhile, a few days. He wished he didn’t feel as if Hakkai was avoiding him, and had been avoiding him since they had… whatever.

He should probably have looked in the garden from the first, but he hadn’t really thought Hakkai would set up his whole office there, complete with desk and other equipment and furniture, although now that he thought about it, there was no reason he shouldn’t. It looked kind of silly out there in the middle of the flowers with the desk settled under a tree, but it was nice too, and peaceful. And maybe the sight of the stars overhead, burning bright in the endless void, sort of put problems in perspective.

At least Hakkai was still talking to him, sort of, even if he hadn’t so much as touched Gojyo since that one night. And he had given Gojyo his own quarters, bigger and nicer than the ones he had had on the diplomatic mission. He pretty much had the run of the ship, but he couldn’t help but feel restless and adrift.

He missed Hakkai: missed talking with him about all the things he had seen and done, missed Hakkai’s acid commentary. Missed Hakkai’s interest in his observations, missed his amused smiles. He especially missed that.

And if he could admit all that to himself, maybe he could admit also that he wouldn’t mind starting things over and trying again. Perhaps without the crazy, this time.

Hakkai leaned back in his chair, and regarded Gojyo thoughtfully. “I have been offering my planets to Prince Kougaiji, for his governance. We’ve almost hammered out an agreement, despite the… slight hitch… in the process.”

“You getting out of the warlord business?” Gojyo propped his ass over the edge of Hakkai’s desk and smiled down at him. _Leered_ down at him, in fact. Hakkai appeared not to notice.

“I was never in it.” Hakkai bent over the pile of documents on his desk and began scanning them. It felt a lot like a dismissal, which perversely made him decide to keep asking questions.

“So. Are you the Butcher of the Tougenkyou Sector, or not?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking, except, well… the news vids could be mistaken, couldn’t they? They got shit wrong all the time. He smoothed the wrinkles out of the legs of his new pants. Not as dashing as the old pants, but not bad.

Hakkai looked up at him and tapped his pen against his teeth. “I’ve killed a lot of youkai, yes. Destroyed a few planets, yes. I’ve done all those things.”

Gojyo was quiet a long time. “Why?”

“Ahaha. You know, oddly enough, no one has ever asked me that. Not even Prince Kougaiji. Although perhaps it wasn’t necessary since I have explained the situation to him in great detail.”

“You could explain it to me. I’ll listen.”

Hakkai smiled at him then, genuine and sweet, almost grateful, and Gojyo felt as if he had been handed the keys to the kingdom. Or at least part of Hakkai’s fucked-up head.

Hakkai sat back in his chair, so incongruous in the midst of the flowers and trees, and started off into the distance. “It’s so odd. It takes so little time to think of everything that happened. And even less time to tell it. You would think events that change worlds would be major events. But not really.”

“Isn’t there some saying about the flapping wings of a butterfly starting the wind that produces a hurricane on the other side of the world?” Gojyo made himself comfortable on Hakkai’s desk. Regardless of what Hakkai seemed to think, his stories took awhile.

“Yes, it’s just like that. I had a sister, my only family. And she was killed, along with the rest of my village, by youkai. We all lived in close proximity, you see. ‘The Tougenkyou Sector, where humans and youkai peacefully coexist.’” Hakkai laughed. “I believed it, then. Now, everywhere I go, I can see the divides. Humans and youkai never lived together peacefully. They don’t in the Tougenkyou Sector, and they don’t on Anshulin. Both species live parallel lives, co-existing, but not mingling. I think perhaps there may be fundamental incompatibilities there: pheromones perhaps? I don’t know. Although, somehow, at least two of them appear to have gotten together long enough to make you, Gojyo.”

Gojyo stiffened and Hakkai smiled his razor-edged smile. “I’ve known since the first night I saw you, but I wasn’t certain until General Yaone introduced us and I saw you were wearing colored contact lenses.”

“We aren’t talking about me,” Gojyo muttered. He crossed his arms around his waist. It suddenly felt chilly in the garden.

“You should stop wearing them. They’re bad for your eye health after extended use,” Hakkai said very earnestly. He reached out and touched Gojyo’s hair, the first time he had voluntarily touched Gojyo in a week. “I like it. I imagine I would like your eyes as well.”

Gojyo smiled, a little bitterly. “I bet not. They’re pretty freaky. Don’t look youkai at all. My mom hated that.”

“Mmm. I had never really thought much about youkai until my sister died. They weren’t part of my life, and our paths rarely crossed. But I hated them all after that, every single one. I can’t even tell you the depths… Even now, sometimes I look at youkai and I want to paint the heavens red.”

Gojyo was so confused. “Umm. You _are_ a youkai.”

“No. Ahaha. Well, in a manner of speaking, I suppose. You see, the reason they had killed my village was because they had been driven mad by some sort of a disease. I didn’t know that then. They were killing themselves off as well. I didn’t know that then either. It wouldn’t have mattered to my vengeance, but I might have approached things differently if I _had_ known.” That razor-smile again, and Gojyo shuddered.

He leaned forward in his chair. “It was bloody, my vengeance. And I left a lot of corpses behind me. I had gone mad myself, I suppose. And I didn’t take a lot of precautions. Or care about them either, really. So, eventually, I was infected as well, even though I was human. And thus transformed.”

He held out his long, clawed fingers and stared at them, front and back. “And so Cho Hakkai was born. But not until the madness deepened, I think. I know I must have slain even more. It was my only goal at that time. All I can remember is a lot of blood, and pain. I remember how much it hurt when my body began changing. The bone structure and musculature are rather different between humans and youkai.” Hakkai sounded so remote, as though he was talking about something that had happened to someone else.

It was almost too painful for Gojyo to continue to listen. He was transfixed. And horrified. “Hakkai…”

“And so. I got better, eventually, with help. I found my ship. I built up an army, of youkai who had never been infected or had recovered from the madness. And humans, of course. And I discovered that it wasn’t just my planet that had been affected. Most of, if not all of, the Tougenkyou Sector is riddled with the disease. I wanted… I tried to keep it contained. I want to keep it contained. I just don’t know what to do anymore. Destroying planetary infrastructure to keep everyone on the ground and not up in space, to keep the planets quarantined is not necessarily effective. But it was all I could think of.

So then I started trying to track the disease. And interestingly, if you examine the clusters of diseased planets, they make a fairly clear trail leading back this way. The spread and extent of the disease is clearly artificial. I had thought at first that Kougaiji was responsible for disseminating it.”

Gojyo snorted. “Prince Kou? Mister ‘Honor is all we have when all is said and done?’ Prince Stupid?” He didn’t actually think Kougaiji was stupid, but he was pretty soft in the head about a lot of things. And he let that bitch of a stepmother of his jerk his chain too often.

“Ahaha yes. Well, I hadn’t met him then. I am glad I did. He’s an interesting fellow. We’re devising a plan for administering and evaluating the planets I paralyzed. And trying to figure out a better way of quarantining the infection and administering aid. I think… maybe I can help find a cure for the disease. We’re looking for that as well. And hopefully I can finally stop being the Butcher of the Tougenkyou Sector.”

There was a long silence, not quite awkward, but not easy either, and Gojyo propped his head on his hand and stared up and out at the stars. “You know. This place needs some birds and insects. It’s too quiet.”

Hakkai stared off to the side, then seemed to come to some sort of decision. “And another thing, Gojyo.” His voice sounded uncharacteristically jerky, as it hadn’t when he had explained his background, and Gojyo glanced at him. “I will take you back to the surface. I know you’ve wanted to return for some time, and although I think it’s a mistake, I--”

Gojyo rolled his eyes. But he made sure Hakkai didn’t see it. “So all that speech about me being yours was just a lot of words, eh?” That pissed him off a little. And Hakkai trying to be noble was… was… fascinating, actually.

Still, Hakkai might be a youkai, but he knew sweet FA about _being_ one. Which, looking back at some of his actions, explained a lot. Hakkai seemed so lost a lot of the time, and now Gojyo knew why.

“Gojyo.” Hakkai seemed to be trying to pick his words carefully. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“You know, Hakkai, instead of making all these decisions for me, you might ask me what I think.” He tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure he had succeeded when he saw Hakkai’s lips compress.

“All right, then. What do you think, Gojyo?” Hakkai’s voice was back to being pleasant and level, which was a pretty sure sign he was annoyed.

Gojyo sat back and pondered, while Hakkai waited patiently for his answer. That was a good question. Really, his main thought was that Hakkai was overthinking this whole thing between the two of them and not paying enough attention to his youkai instincts. It must have been an extremely difficult balancing act for someone like Hakkai who lived so much in his own head: all that primal wildness, all those feelings and urges waging constant battle against his reason. Gojyo couldn’t say that, of course, so he settled for, “Do you want me to leave, go back to Anshulin?”

Hakkai’s breath caught as if Gojyo had struck him. “Gojyo. No, of course not. But I am trying to—“ And there it was, the sign he had been looking for: he could see the pupils of those green eyes beginning to dilate as the youkai in Hakkai began to flex its muscles a bit.

Gojyo stretched out his long legs, and hopped off the desk. He leaned over Hakkai’s chair so that he loomed over Hakkai and let the corner of his mouth curl up in a derisive little smirk.

“You think I’m yours? _Prove_ it.” Gojyo interrupted. He pushed off Hakkai’s chair with his hands, and sauntered off, then began to run full out, as fast as he could, down the neat garden paths.

He had actually gotten a bit further than he expected before he felt Hakkai barrel into his back like a ton of bricks, but he had been expecting it, after all. He rolled with it and kicked Hakkai away and took off again.

Hakkai tackled him around the legs, and this time he could feel something tickling along the length of his arms and leg and up over his body, pinning him to the ground. “Wah! What the fuck!”

He couldn’t move. But he could see lots of little vines moving all around him, and a pissed-off youkai on top of him, eyes completely black.

He started to laugh. “That’s cheating!” He arched his back so that his throat and belly were exposed, then closed his eyes, and he heard Hakkai gasp above him.

“Gojyo. Oh, Gojyo,” he murmured over and over. And then his fingers twined in Gojyo’s hair, and Gojyo couldn’t stop smiling while Hakkai pressed frantic little kisses into his throat.

He tried to keep things slow and teasing, mostly as sort of payback, but it was just too difficult not to get caught up in Hakkai’s desperation and need, as well as his own passion and happiness. He gave in, gladly, letting their hunger wash over him, writhing beneath Hakkai’s skillful, knowing, fingers and tongue; returning Hakkai’s own longing and desire with every fiber of his being. And when Hakkai finally took him and cried out his name in release, a brand new, fragile, part of him rejoiced. Now _that_ was fucking. But it was something else too, something Hakkai had showed him a glimpse of the last time they had… whatever. But maybe this other thing wasn’t so terrifying after all if it could be like this, with Hakkai.

A long while later, Gojyo cleaned himself off in the little fountain, while Hakkai watched, frowning. “That was very foolish of you.”

“Tch. I told you I could take whatever you dish out. And anyway. I’ve been thinking about what happened, a lot. And I have issues about… things. I know that. And maybe we both know a little too much about pushing each other’s buttons, yeah?”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose so.” Hakkai flopped down in the grass. “I _am_ sorry about that, Gojyo. I won’t… push your buttons again. I wanted to win our contest of wills, and it escalated. At the end there, I wasn’t even thinking about how it would affect you. I just _knew_ I could get you to admit that you were lying to me.”

Gojyo shrugged. “Yeah, well. If you _had_ gotten me to admit it—and I am not admitting to anything by saying this—we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”

“Although… It’s not necessarily a bad thing to push the envelope a bit,” he said after awhile. He skimmed his hands down his body, over the marks and bruises on his chest and legs and grinned at Hakkai. Hakkai’s youkai eyes darkened a bit, and Gojyo laughed, light and joyful.

“Gojyo,” Hakkai said reprovingly, but his mouth curled up.

Gojyo sat cross-legged on the grass beside Hakkai and looked out over the star-specked blackness of space. “I’ve always wanted to go places and explore. I still do. So I think I’ll decline your decision to take me back to Anshulin.”

“Oh? Perhaps you could be my own personal entertainer.”

“Hah. You _hate_ my music.” Gojyo grinned. But he leaned against Hakkai, bumping his shoulder, and twined their fingers together.

“That’s true. But you could try to convince me of its worth.”

“Well, Lord Cho, I believe I will.”


End file.
